Confusion (A Confused Extrapolation)

I've found that my idea of confusion is generally nuanced in regard to the signifiers that most people have attached to the word, and so my idea of it [interjection: may] warrant some explanation in order to understand what it is exactly that I am saying when I say that "I am confused."

First, in almost every context in which the word confusion is used, it is imbued with a negative connotation, mainly because it implies ambiguity, disorder, perplexity, and general uncertainty. As a result, the state of confusion exists as an unsettling territory and any actions derived from such a state are inherently dubious (questionable) because the cause of the confused action's effect does not have a recognizably firm basis, but rather comes out of a storm, a lack (a void) of form, a chaos in which irreconcilable elements relate to each other sophistically. In this way, confusion detracts from a cohesive conception or logical structure.

The usual response to such a state is flight or fight. Either leave the state, move away from the things that pulled you in (or the thing which you embarked toward, depending on how passive or active your conception of self is . . .), or try to hold your own in it with the hope of eventually shedding light on the confused state so that you may analyze the elements, look into their seemingly illogical or incomprehensible relationships so that they might be interpreted and understood, which would remove the veil of confusion.

Basically, it can be asserted that the state of confusion is dismantled by the creation (the mantling) of a system which allows for the various elements that formed the confusion to be understood and made rationally meaningful.

It bears mentioning that time almost intrinsically allows for a state of confusion to be contextualized, which means that a judgment can be passed upon a past confusion. Here it can be said that the future vantage allows two possibilities. The first is the possibility for sense to be made out of (or a structure applied to) the confusion, which will give a basis for judging the dubious actions that resulted from it (a basis lacking during the experience of confusion). The second possibility is that the contextualization provided by time will only makes the confusion more impenetrable as it is no longer accessible, but even this possibility at least allows for a distance from the state of confusion, so that the confusion can be given dimensions, defined within an abstract spacial context with delineated boundaries . . . and therefore less threatening. The first possibility usually implies what we like to call illusory confusion, while the second possibility can be nominally referred to as pure confusion. This is an important distinction that will probably be extrapolated on later, though not in this essay.

Alright, hopefully this helps solidify a general template for confusion (haha). Now I'll attempt to communicate what makes my idea of confusion idiosyncratic, nuanced, and probably not worth explaining.

I'll start by stating that the state of confusion is a place that I enjoy occupying mentally, which may sound absurd (especially when we take into account the irony of me writing an essay trying to explain confusion systematically), but hear me out. I enjoy the mental occupation of confusion because, of course, I don't necessarily enjoy being in a physically confused environment, that is, I don't like the people around me to be making confused decisions that have physical, real consequences. It can get way too messy. I think it's best when people actively seek to eradicate confusion where their relationships are concerned because structure, definition, and sound reasoning in the real world environment make for fluid and generally beneficial consequences. So, I guess what I am referring to here is a more solipsistic confusion that pertains to the world of ideas, philosophy, perspective, and beliefs. I find this state of confusion to be warm and natural. I also tend to find that, if I don't feel confused when it comes to this abstract world, it usually means that I've gotten lazy and have effectively moved myself into an unnatural state.

When I was trying to create a template for the common understanding and associations of confusion (above), I described the state of confusion as "a storm, a lack (a void) of form, a chaos in which irreconcilable elements relate to each other sophistically." To me, this is the most natural form of consciousness. It is because consciousness is basically a lack of form, a chaos, a mess of ill-related elements (which is why our dreams are so ridiculous!), that it becomes possible for us to invent, think abstractly, move forward productively and understand our errors. We can pull things from around us into a storm of confusion and see how they interact, in which ways they might be combined. A consciousness, in my humble opinion, will (and here there's another assertion of about what is natural for consciousness) will intrinsically start reflecting upon the confusion that these incoming data generates. This is nothing original. Existentialism and Absurdism are, for all extensive purposes, founded on such principles, well, these principles and the, more or less, inconsequential assertion that there is no God. These principles are also the starting and ending point for (well I guess you could say these principles are the only point of) Confusionism (a movement founded by a couple of us in my undergraduate days [unfortunately the movement never went anywhere because it's main premise effectively (perfectly) pinned the movement static by the sheer and wonderful explosion of potential that the movement represented . . . basically, it's a philosophy that offers very little to the third dimension . . . it's best suited for the fifth dimension on up]).

Generally, there are quite a few structures already prepared in a mind (you could say childhood is geared toward developing broad structures to help quickly and efficiently deal with confusion) that so that the consciousness can quickly sort the potentially confusing variables into a system and the individual can then quickly exit the confused state so that they might start acting in ways that can be logically understood in terms of their cause. However, I find I am most effective at fixing problems, forming conclusions, and gaining a better idea of a situation the longer I can keep myself in the confused state (as long as I know how to pull myself out, that is, as long as I have a lifeline in reach). I also find that potential is most fully present in this confused state because of the sheer instability of the consciousness.

You don't even have to be a programmer to know how this differentiates us from software and computers (or at least our primitive versions of them). Programming is all about setting up a system to take data and process it. To do this, you design functions to handle all the possible scenarios, you try to make it as water proof as possible because if the program somehow gets a piece of data input that isn't properly defined, it gets confused. Who knows what it will do from there . . . but the potential for something bad pops up. That's why calling someone a robot is a derogatory/insulting thing to say. Basically, your telling them that they're scared to be confused and, like software, will either try to push the ill-defined data through their program (which'll, you know, usually lead to confusion in the bad way) or the data will be disregarded.


So, to wrap this up (kind of, I think I'm gonna speel on for a little longer, but this could be a conclusion), when I happily declare "I am confused!", I really am happily declaring that I am confused . . . that is, I feel ecstatic, like the world has suddenly opened up and is once again the beautiful, bizarre place that I experienced as a child. The thing is, confusion is an indulgence, good only for leisure, because (as I already said) I don't like a confused real world environment, and I'm willing to hold myself to the standard I expect of others. Anyway, I'm confused is my way of saying: "I think I'm on to something!", which is usually when I'm happiest.

A good example of confusion doing some benefit (and here we get to use future vantage for contextualization) is the abolitionist movement that took place in late 18th and early 19th century. What the abolitionists were able to do, is start confusing the daylights out of people. At the time, there were a great many whitefolk doing battle against the confusion they had about the world by setting up a structure of perspective in which race was a defining characteristic of humanity and this racially defined structure was the main justification of slavery in the whitefolk's best idea for a country ever: America. Then you have people like William Lloyd Garrison and Frederick Douglass going around and saying confusing things about slavery being a bad thing. As the this movement of people explaining why slavery was a bad thing grew, more and more people were willing to open their ears to what the abolitionists had to say. The more people listened, the more confused they got about slavery, and the more confused they got, the longer they stayed in the storm form of consciousness concerning the issue, until many were able to emerge with the idea that maybe slavery isn't a good thing . . . and ultimately enough people were able to act on what this confusion did for them (not all of course, the poor south had their interests to protect). So, big bloody war, lots of confusion, and then suddenly slavery was outlawed. Unfortunately, not enough people went home at night and got themselves real good and confused about the issue, so we've been still experiencing race problems up until today.

So, moral of the story is this: spend an hour or so everyday, whenever you got some leisure time or want to take a break from the hectic schedule you got going on, and get yourself real nice and confused. Keep a halter on it, don't go in too far or you might not be able to exit the confusion at will, which could extend the confusion out into places it shouldn't go.


I should probably thank the more intelligent persons who write essays (upon essays) about confusion, I couldn't have expressed my full-fledged trumpet mark pull the wand way out the want, though be it as it may already a little antsy, man . . .